“Nikhilananda’s birthday. Maybe we’d Morris dance, naked, around the base of an old-growth California redwood, its branches lavishly festooned with the soiled hammocks and poop buckets of crunchy-granola tree sitters mentoring spotted owls in passive-resistance protest techniques. You get the… — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share
That quest for something pretty. A cheat. A cliche. Flowers and Christmas lights, it's what we're programmed to love. — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
Because after you've crossed some lines, you just keep crossing them. And there's no escaping from constant escape. Distracting ourselves. Avoiding confrontation. Getting past… — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
According to Plato, we don't learn anything. Our soul has lived so many lives that we know everything. Teachers and education can only remind… — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
His saliva tasted like the wet dicks of ten thousand lonely truck drivers. — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
“We drive west the rest of the night, away from where the sun will come up, trying to outrace it, trying not to see… — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
Nobody's told me anything to date that I've been completely reviled by. — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
“Then you're trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.” — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
Verbs allow you to communicate a story in a much more converged or involuntary way for a reader. The verbs allow you to come… — Chuck Palahniuk Copy Share Image
